


as long as i love you (my baby you'll be)

by theyellowumbrella



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, vanessa and charity with kids??? i'm dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:44:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyellowumbrella/pseuds/theyellowumbrella
Summary: Charity and Vanessa bond with each other's children.





	1. Noah

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes:
> 
> 1\. I love my son Noah Dingle  
> 2\. Vanessa also loves her (step)son Noah Dingle  
> 3\. Noah is the most underrated Dingle
> 
> also I don't know if I'm going to do a chapter w Vanessa and Debbie bonding or not because I Really can't write Debbie but there will be at least 2 more chapters eventually with Vanessa and Moses bonding and Charity and Johnny bonding (be still my beating heart).
> 
> ALSO. TAKE A SHOT EVERY TIME NOAH SIGHS.

Vanessa likes to think she’s good with kids.

She wasn’t totally keen on them before Johnny, if she’s being completely honest — their blank little stares always freaked her out a bit — but now, she quite likes the company of little kids. Stick her in a room with April or Leo and she’s quite happy to play with them to their hearts’ content.

Teenagers, however —

Teenagers are a different story altogether.

She supposes she gets along quite well with Jacob, when they see each other — which, to be fair, is quite often, considering he’s sort of her step-nephew now, but when they do see each other, it’s not like they’re really having conversations past hellos and goodbyes and questions about how he’s getting on at school.

The fact that Kirin was still a teenager when they got together — and technically still is now — obviously doesn’t help matters. It makes her feel sick to think that the father of her child is closer in age to their son than he is to her, and she always breaks out into a bit of an uncomfortable sweat when she’s around teenagers.

So, the fact that being with Charity apparently means inheriting two new stepkids, one of which is a moody teenager, definitely isn’t what she had in mind for her future — but she’s decided to look on the bright side of things. After all, Noah seems like a nice enough kid — disregarding his past of graffiting his own family home and bullying his friends, obviously — and Moses is still too little to really have a personality.

For the first few months of their relationship, Noah stays in his room for the most part. They see each other sometimes, in passing, but rarely speak. Their interactions mostly consist of awkward nods of acknowledgement and Noah grunting out one word answers at everything she says.

So, when Charity texts her asking if she can pick Noah up from his football because birthday present shopping is taking longer than she thought it would and Debbie won’t stop scouring every toy shop in a hundred mile radius to find this ridiculously overpriced toy for Jack that Charity just  _ knows _ will be forgotten about within the week, she’s a little bit apprehensive.

She’s just trying to enjoy a nice quiet breakfast in the cafe, trying to enjoy the peace that comes with Tracy agreeing to bring Johnny home from his sleepover after lunch, trying to enjoy not having all eyes on her and Charity for once, because apparently no matter how long they’re together, it’s still news, but no, of course Charity would want her to go and pick Noah up from his football.

She tries to protest, but it’s a lost cause, really, and within ten minutes of getting Charity’s text, she’s paying for her unfinished food and setting off for wherever the Hotten Juniors train.

When she finally gets there, after three wrong turns and an uncomfortable conversation with some kids, they’re still training. She sits and watches from the car for about five minutes before she realises there’s the chance he’s not finishing anytime soon and she just looks sort of weird, sitting watching a bunch of teenage boys kick a ball about a pitch in the freezing winter weather, so she zips her coat up and decides to face the other huddle of parents sitting around watching.

There’s a jarring sense of judgement that brings her back to her own teenage years, standing on her own out there. It feels almost like she’s sitting on her own at lunch, or is the only one not to have been picked for the netball team and everyone’s sitting speaking about her. Logically, she knows that the other parents probably haven’t even noticed her there, hovering on the sidelines, but she still feels uncomfortably exposed.

She focuses her attention on Noah, who’s standing in the goals, currently attempting to block the ball from coming into it. He lunges at it, throws his whole body forward really quite aggressively and falls onto the grass ungracefully, arms stretching out just enough to stop the ball from rolling into the goals.

She watches as he gets up, seemingly unfazed by the fall he’d taken, and boots the ball back onto the pitch. He wipes himself down, dusting the grass off of his shirt and running a hand through the mop of blonde hair on his head that he’s left unstyled for the first time in what Vanessa thinks must be months.

She watches him until he’s done, ten minutes later. The coach blows his whistle and Noah runs off the pitch, laughing and chatting with the other boys. He drops to the ground, yanking his football boots off and replacing them with his trainers, all the while chatting animatedly with his friends.

It’s incredible — she’s never seen Noah quite so …  _ alive. _ He’s always quiet and withdrawn at home, hiding himself away in his bedroom, and when he’s not, he’s always sitting on his phone, contributing nothing to the conversation. The most talkative she’s ever seen him is when he’s playing with Moses, and that’s nothing compared to this.

He takes a long swig of his water and says goodbye to his mates, pulling his rucksack onto his back. His face falls when he finally spots Vanessa, standing on her own. Disappointment settles in her chest when she sees his expression — she knows they’re not exactly best mates, but she thought he at least liked her a little.

“Why are you here?” he asks by way of greeting when he finally approaches her. He keeps walking towards the car, not slowing down once to allow her to start walking with him. “Where’s Mum?”

“She got held up shopping with Debbie, asked if I could pick you up instead. That alright?”

Noah just sighs. He opens the door to the car and throws his bag over the headrest and onto the backseat carelessly before slumping down into the passenger seat. “Wow, what a surprise,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. “She chooses Debbie over me,  _ again. _ ”

Vanessa frowns. “Come on, it’s not like that.”

His face hardens. “Yes, it is. How would you know? You barely even know her.”

“Noah, don’t be like that.”

He takes his phone out and connects it to the AUX cord before hitting play on what Vanessa can only describe as a crime against humanity disguised as music. She thinks about complaining, but decides against it when she sees the sour look on his face.

If looks could kill, Vanessa thinks she’d probably be six feet under by now.

“You know your mum loves you,” Vanessa tries again, although it’s probably hopeless. She knows Charity’s not exactly been the best mum to Noah in the past (or any of her kids, really) and that he’s probably right, she does favour Debbie over him and Moses.

Noah scoffs, keeping his eyes on his phone. “She’s got a funny way of showing it.”

Vanessa doesn’t really know what to say to that one, because he’s right, she doesn’t show it very well. Not to mention the fact that he was also right before — no, she hasn’t really known any of them for very long, so how’s she possibly meant to know how much Charity loves him?

There  _ are _ things she knows about Charity, things that could probably let Noah know that she really does love him, things that he’d probably never forget, that she doesn’t really think she’s in the position to share.

Things like, Charity still keeps one of Noah’s baby blankets in her bedside cabinet. It’s ratty and faded and probably hasn’t been washed since he was little, but she always makes sure it’s still in there. Things like, Charity always checks in on Noah long after he’s asleep, just to make sure he’s okay. Things like, Charity still has all of the presents that he made for and bought her when he was little — teddies and photo frames and drawings of them and whatever stepdad he had then — in a box under her bed, because she can’t bear to get rid of them.

Instead of telling him any of this, she says, “I know that she’s a bit … well, she’s not very good at being affectionate. But she does love you.”

“She loves herself, more like.”

Vanessa doesn’t really know how to argue with that one, so she leaves it. Noah turns up the volume and slouches back in his seat, looking right at home in the role of moody teenager. The songs switch every once in a while, each new song even worse than the last — a smorgasbord of far too loud noises and intense beat drops remixed with some songs she’s never heard and some she remembers from her own childhood.

Another reason she doesn’t get on with teenagers: they just remind her of how  _ old  _ she’s getting.

“You know, you don’t have to try and be my mate,” he says, very matter-of-fact. “You don’t have to worry about Mum going off you if we don’t get on; she doesn’t care what I think about who she goes out with.”

“I don’t want us to be mates because I think we have to.” Vanessa frowns at the unimpressed look on Noah’s face. “I want us to be mates because … well, I know your mum’s a bit of a nightmare, but I really like her, and I want us to make a proper go of things. And I know that you and Moses are dead important to her, whether or not you actually believe me, and she’d like it if we got on.”

Noah just rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before.” He turns the music down a few notches, much to Vanessa’s relief, and slides his phone into his hoodie pocket. “You think that her being a nightmare is ‘cute’ for the first while, before you realise that actually, it’s just really exhausting, and no, you’re not going to be the one that makes her a good person. And then I’m left sorting out the mess you made because she’s my mum and it’s my job to stick around.”

In that moment, Vanessa’s heart breaks. Here’s Noah — sweet, mostly-innocent, thirteen year old Noah — who’s meant to be spending his life playing footie and having a laugh with his mates, but is instead having to step up to the plate and try and assert himself as the man of the house, just to make sure his mum’s okay.

“Noah,” she says, voice all soft, and he must notice, because he throws his head back and groans, much in the way she imagines he does when he’s getting told off for leaving his wet towel on the bathroom floor, or for skiving school. “You don’t have to take care of her. You’re just a kid.”

“I don’t need your pity, alright,” he snaps, voice sharp. It’s almost scary, how much he reminds her of Charity in that moment. She’s never seen it before, the resemblance, other than in their looks, but watching the words come out of his mouth with an ease that clearly comes natural to him is like looking right into a little mini-Charity.

“I’m not pitying you.” He gives her a disbelieving look, like asking if she really thinks he’s that gullible. “Honest, I’m not! I’m just saying. You’re a kid. It’s about time someone looked after you for a change.”

He scoffs. “And what, that’s going to be you, is it?”

“Oi! What’s so bad about me, eh?”

He doesn’t reply, just crosses his arms over his chest huffily and slouches down in his seat.

“I have got a son, you know. I do know a thing or two about parenting.”   


Noah laughs, like she’s said something funny. “Yeah, you’ve got a son — a two year old. What’s that gonna teach you about a thirteen year old? I am potty trained, you know.”

Vanessa’s grip on the wheel tightens just slightly. She grits her teeth and stares straight ahead, determined not to let him get to her. After all, wasn’t she the one just saying that Noah’s just a kid? And this is what kids do — argue and cause trouble just for the sake of it.

Noah sighs, and sits up a little in his seat. Vanessa watches out of the corner of her eye as he appears to mull over something, fingers tangling in his hair nervously like he can’t quite decide whether or not he wants to say it.

“Look. It’s nowt to do with you, alright? I’m just not getting attached to another one of her boyfriends — well, you know what I mean — only for you to go all psycho and try and kill her.”

That’s when she knows she’s in for more than she bargained for here.

“Sorry, what? Why would I ‘go all psycho and try and kill her’? You’ve lost me there.”

“Yeah, well, they always do. Cain, Declan, even Jai. She makes people go mental.” He looks at her then, eyes connecting with hers and widening like he’s trying to get something through to her, like it’s the most important thing she’ll ever hear. “She’ll make you go mental.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll be alright.”

He groans loudly, and kicks at the glove compartment in his anger. Vanessa goes to complain, but he speaks before she can. “Don’t know why I’m even bothering. Obviously you don’t care, so whatever. But if she messes you up, then don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turns away from her, eyes focused intently on the sights he can see from out of the window rather than anything in the car. He rests his head against the glass, and for a second, he looks so young, it breaks Vanessa’s heart.

“Noah, come on. I want us to be mates, alright? I want us to get along. I get it, your mum’s had a lot of boyfriends in the past, and none of them have worked out, and so you’re sceptical — and that’s fine, yeah. But can’t you just … I don’t know, give me a chance?”

He’s silent for a long time. He doesn’t really look like he’s thinking, more ignoring her, but she figures maybe this is one of those things you’re not meant to push them on, so she waits. His music has transitioned to something at least a little bit calmer now — still for the most part unbearable, but less unbearable than the rest of it, so that’s something — and while it’s definitely not  _ relaxing _ by any stretch of the word, at least they’re not sitting in silence except for Noah’s pick of dubstep.

Eventually, Noah turns around slightly. He’s hunched over a little, body curled in on itself like he’s not really all that confident in what he has to say. “I’ve not got any more chances to give. You can go out with my mum if you want — I honestly couldn’t care less — but me and you aren’t mates, alright?”

And that’s the end of the conversation. Nothing more is said for the rest of the car ride, and as soon as Vanessa pulls up in front of the Woolie, Noah’s practically jumping out of the car and storming inside. In his haste to get as far away from her as possible, she realises he’s left his bag in the back of her car.

* * *

When she enters the pub, Noah’s bag slung over her shoulder, he’s long gone. Charity’s back behind the bar, leaning against it, very purposefully  _ not _ pulling any pints, as per.

When she sees Vanessa, a smile makes its way across her face that tugs at something deep in Vanessa’s chest. She pulls her in for a quick kiss over the bar, the kind of gentle greeting that Vanessa’s still not sure she’ll ever be used to coming from Charity Dingle, before pulling away and looking at her with a worried expression on her face.

“What happened with you and Noah?” Vanessa’s face falls. “He came in, I asked him how his footie went and he stormed through to the back room and told me to go to Hell.”

Vanessa groans, hiding her face in her hands.”Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Why? What’ve you said?”

Her head snaps up. “Oi! Why do you automatically assume  _ I’ve _ said something? He is  _ your _ son, after all — anything’s possible.”

“Cheeky cow,” Charity says with a scowl. “Anyway. What’s happened, then? If it’s not something you’ve said, then what is it?”

Vanessa pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “No, I think — I think this one might have been my fault. I dunno, I just asked him if we could be mates, or at least  _ try _ and get along, and he basically told me he thinks there’s no point because I’ll chuck you soon enough and he can’t be arsed with the effort.”

“Oh, for — I’ll go talk to him.” As Charity starts walking away from the bar, Vanessa reaches out and grabs her arm from across it.

“No! Don’t. Let me. Don’t want him to think we’re ganging up on him, do we? It should probably come from me anyway.”

Charity frowns but doesn’t move any further. “Alright, but if he gives you any lip, let me know, yeah?”

* * *

The back room is empty when she goes to look for him. There are signs of him there — the TV’s on, switched to some comedy she doesn’t recognise, his trainers have been abandoned by the door and he’s dumped his hoodie on the kitchen table.

She figures that the next logical step is to try his room, even if she wonders if it might be a bit weird to just go up there and look for him. Still, she powers through, and after almost tripping over the mountain of toys left at the top of the stairs by Moses and Johnny, she’s standing outside Noah’s door, fist rested against it as she tries to talk herself into knocking.

“Noah?” she calls out eventually, knuckles rapping on his door hesitantly.

She hears a sigh from within the room, and then, “What do you want?”

“Can I come in?”

She’s met with silence, until he finally lets out a long, pained sigh, and says, “Whatever.”

Noah’s bedroom is … sort of weird, to be honest. She’s not quite sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the pitch black wallpaper and curtains and the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the roof. It’s quite nice, in an emo sort of way — he’s got photos of him and his mates and him and Charity and Moses pinned to a corkboard, decorated with fairy lights, and there’s a particularly cute photo of him at about four years old, sitting on Charity’s lap grinning away like he has no cares in the world, that particularly tugs at Vanessa’s heartstrings.

(There’s a man sat beside them that Vanessa doesn’t recognise, with his arm wrapped around Charity’s shoulders. She makes a mental note to ask about that one later).

Noah’s sprawled across his bed playing FIFA, very purposefully not looking at Vanessa by the door. His hands keep moving as she slowly makes her way over to his bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He stretches up when she starts to obstruct his view of the TV, peering over the top of her head to get a better look at it.

“Erm, you left this in my car,” she says nervously, holding his bag up in explanation. Noah looks at it for maybe a second before his attention’s back on the TV.

Vanessa places his bag at the bottom of his bed and tries to compose herself. She’s not quite sure why she’s so scared of this, of him — she’s a grown woman, for Christ’s sake, and he’s a thirteen year old boy.

“Um, Noah,” she tries again. “About before …”

“Forget about it,” he cuts in. “Seriously. It’s no big deal. We’ll be nice to each other when we see each other and we won’t talk for the rest of the time. It’s not like we ever do now, is it?”

She sighs. “Yeah, and it’s a bit weird, don’t you think? I mean, I  _ am  _ going out with your mum.”

He shrugs. “Lots of people have went out with my mum. If I was friends with all of them I’d be the most popular guy this side of Yorkshire.”   


She chooses to ignore that particular comment for the time being — calling him out on it would probably only result in even more aggro on his end, which is definitely something she can live without.

“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Noah’s hand stills on his controller for a few seconds before he keeps playing. “I mean, your mum’s a total headcase, but, well, Johnny’s already attached, so.” Noah’s face has hardened again. “I’m just kidding.”

“Yeah, well. Whatever.”

“I’m serious, alright? I know your mum’s been … unlucky in love a lot, but this is different.”

Noah sighs. He pauses his game and drops his controller on his duvet. “That’s the thing, though. You would think that. They  _ always _ think it’s different. But it’s not — not for her, anyway. And you don’t deserve that and I don’t deserve to have to bond with you and then not be allowed to see you anymore when you eventually break up.”

Vanessa purses her lips. “Maybe you’re right. But I think we’re alright for now, okay?  _ I’m  _ certainly not planning on breaking up with her anytime soon. I mean, I can’t speak for your mum, but I honestly don’t think she wants the hassle. And I would really, really like for us to be mates.”

He sits without saying anything for a good few minutes, fidgeting silently with his hands like he doesn’t know whether or not to trust her. Eventually, he says, “Can you talk Mum into letting us get a dog?”

Vanessa can’t help the laugh that comes out of her mouth at his question. “I — yeah. Yeah, I think I probably can.” She beams at him, happiness radiating out of every pore. “Any breed preferences?”

He gives her a small smile in return. “Maybe a beagle, or a lab.”

It’s not much, but it’s a start.

* * *

“So, how did it go with Noah?” Charity asks later, long after she’s left his room with the promise of trying to talk Charity over on the whole dog thing. They’re sitting on the couch together watching TV, Vanessa leaning against the arm and Charity stretched out across it with her head lolling in Vanessa’s lap while she lets her play with her hair. It’s the little moments like these, the little signs of trust and affection from Charity that are so rare, that Vanessa loves the most. “Are the two of you mates yet?”

Vanessa smiles, twirling a lock of Charity’s hair around her finger. “Yeah, I think we’re getting there.” Then, as an afterthought, she adds, “You are going to have to get him a dog, though.”

She ignores Charity’s look of disbelief and continues watching the TV.


	2. Moses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moses is around three and a half in this, making Johnny about three, and Noah fourteen.
> 
> Also, I have literally no idea what a three year old is like. I somehow ended up on a forum of worried parents who were concerned that their three year old wasn't talking enough because they weren't talking in full sentences yet, and eventually I ended up leaving because it wasn't really helping any, so. If this is inaccurate - a three and a half year old being able to talk in mostly full sentences - pls just suspend your belief in reality for a little while, because I haven't been around a three year old in close to six years now, so. Cut me some slack.

Out of all three of Charity’s kids, Moses is the one Vanessa’s least worried about. After all, he’s so little, there’s no way he could possibly comprehend the concept of the two of them possibly breaking up or hurting each other like Noah or Debbie.

True to word, he takes to her fairly easily. There’s a few tantrums at the beginning, and one unfortunate incident involving him lobbing a toy truck at her head, but eventually, he seems to sort of just … get used to her.

He’s only a few months older than Johnny, and Johnny takes to him instantly. He follows him around almost like a bad smell, constantly trailing behind him wherever he goes, clutching onto his sleeve. It’s quite cute, really, the way he latches onto him, almost looks up to him like a big brother.

Vanessa was a little bit apprehensive, at first, at the thought of giving Johnny three new step-siblings — especially one so close in age to him. She thought it might be overwhelming for him, even if Noah and Debbie are a lot older than him and Moses, but now, it’s hard to try and picture Johnny without Moses constantly by his side.

They’re like a little double act, always putting on little shows together in the back room. Their jokes never really make much sense, but it’s always funny to watch them try and remember whatever it was they’d been coming up with all afternoon, huddled in their own little corner of the room.

Their friendship’s made her and Moses grown a lot closer, actually. She’s actually grown quite fond of him, as exhausting as he can be, always running about the place causing trouble — which is why when she stumbles across him crying quietly on his bedroom floor, her heart absolutely breaks.

“Moses,” she says, rushing into the room. He looks up, big tear-filled eyes making contact with her own. “What’s wrong, darling?”

She scoops him up into her arms and takes a seat on his bed, sitting him down on her lap. She gently prises his blanket out of his mouth where he’s chewing on it, and wipes the tears from his cheeks with it.

“What’s wrong?” she repeats, smoothing his hair back. He’s stopped crying for the most part, but his lip’s quivering like he’s about to start up again.

“Noah,” is all he says. The mention of his brother’s name clearly sets him off, because he starts wailing again, only much louder this time. She rocks him gently in her arms, trying her best to calm him down from the state he’s worked himself into.

“What about him?” Moses doesn’t respond. Vanessa reckons he probably hasn’t even heard her over the sound of his own crying, the poor mite. “Hey, hey, shh. What about Noah? Has he done something to upset you?”

Moses nods, squirming in Vanessa’s arms. He quietens down again, but he keeps making these little snuffly, silent cries that are absolutely ripping Vanessa to pieces.

“What’s he done, eh? What’s got you so upset?”

Moses breathes in, like he’s readying himself to recount the tale. “He —” he hiccups, “— wouldn’t —” hiccup, “— play with me, and —” hiccup, “— he told me —” hiccup, “— to go away.” He punctuates the end of it with a piercing cry.

“Oh, I’m sure he didn’t mean it, sweetheart.” 

Silently, she curses Noah. Their relationship has improved a lot since the beginning — although that’s probably not saying much, considering at the beginning, he didn’t even deem her worthy of speaking to — but he can still be so insensitive when it comes to Moses and Johnny. This isn’t exactly the first time she’s had to comfort one of them because Noah doesn’t want to play.

It’s not like she doesn’t get that he’s a fourteen year old boy and he doesn’t want to be spending all his free time playing with a couple of toddlers, it’s just that she wishes he’d be a bit kinder when telling them. They’re both so little, so sensitive, and she knows it’s not Noah’s fault but they just take everything so hard all the time.

“Where’s Johnny, eh?” she asks, jiggling him up and down on her leg. “I thought you two were playing together?”

“He’s in Mummy’s room. We’ve fallen out,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s not my friend anymore.”

“Oh, have you?” Vanessa can’t help but smile at how sure he sounds, like Johnny’s dead to him, when she knows that they’ll have made up within the hour. “How come?”

“He wouldn’t lemme be the robber when we played cops and robbers, an’ then he said he hates me.” He wipes at his eye with the heel of his hand, clutching his blanket tight in the other one. “And he said he dun’ wanna be my brother anymore.”

“Oh, Moses.”

“An’ now Noah doesn’t even wanna be my brother anymore.”

He reaches up, twisting his body around so that he can wrap his arms around her neck and pull her in for a hug. He cries into her neck, probably getting snot and tears all over it, but she can’t quite bring herself to care while she’s trying not to cry at the sight of him.

It scares her, in that moment, when she realises quite how much she’s grown to love Moses. He’s not her son — not really, anyway — but she knows then that she’d do anything to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. She knows he’s only little, and it’s just a silly row between mates — brothers, as they both like to remind them at every chance they get — but she knows that if she could take away whatever pain he’s feeling and feel it herself, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

She stands up, making sure to lift him with her, keeping him held tightly against her hip. “Come on, let’s go get something to drink, eh?”

She passes in by Noah’s room on their way downstairs, popping her head round the door and giving him her best unimpressed face. “I need you to look after Johnny for me — he’s playing in your mum’s room. Try not to make him cry an’ all, yeah?”

Noah looks like he wants to say something to Moses but he just shrugs and keeps playing his game.

By the time they’re downstairs, Moses has stopped crying and is instead just nuzzling his face into her neck and playing with his blanket. She sets him down on the sofa and turns the TV on to some cartoon, making her way over to the kitchen to fill his sippy cup with some juice.

She watches him from the counter, curled up on the sofa, thumb in mouth. He’s got tears streaked down his face and is watching his cartoon with the sort of childlike innocence that he’s not going to have for much longer. She loves moments like these, when she just gets to observe Moses and Johnny. They’re both so little, they haven’t learned how to hide what they’re feeling, or why they’d even want to. All of their emotions are spelled out right on their faces for the whole world to see, and they couldn’t care less.

She takes a seat beside him, passing him his cup and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. He snuggles into her chest, clambering onto her lap and taking a drink of his juice. “Love you,” he says. It’s muffled by his cup, but she hears it clear as day.

Vanessa can’t quite hold back the tears that spring to her eyes when she hears that. She pulls him closer and presses a kiss to the top of his head, burying her face in his hair. “I love you too, babe.”

* * *

That’s how Charity finds them, twenty minutes later. Moses has calmed down and is peacefully watching his cartoon, eyes drooping. Vanessa’s been watching him the whole time, never once taking her eyes off of him. She’s playing with his hair idly, stroking it back and forward without thinking, when the door from the pub opens and Charity comes in.

“Hey,” she says, keeping her voice quiet when she clocks a half-asleep Moses. “What, eh, what’s going on here?” She gestures between the two of them, cocking an eyebrow.

She peers down at Moses, making sure he’s dozing enough not to be listening in on their conversation, just in case he’s reminded and it sets him off again. “He had a bit of a row with Johnny, and then Noah accidentally made it worse.”

“Shift over,” she says, sliding beside them on the sofa. “What were they rowing over?”

“Oh, y’know, just kid stuff, but then I guess Johnny said he didn’t want to be his brother anymore and then Noah didn’t want to play with him, and he got himself into a bit of a state. Found him sobbing on his bedroom floor.”

Charity’s face crumples. She reaches out and cups his face gently in her hand, running her thumb over his cheek. He stirs in his sleep but doesn’t wake up, shifting in Vanessa’s arms. “Oh, darling,” she says quietly, brushing his hair out of his face.

Watching Charity with her kids is one of Vanessa’s favourite things to do — watching her usually rock-solid facade crumble in the presence of them. She gets softer around Moses — Johnny, even — than with Noah and Debbie, but there’s still so many moments that Vanessa’s watched where she just turns into a pile of mush for them.

As soon as Charity catches her staring, she tries her hardest to make her expression more neutral, but something inside of Vanessa swells with pride when she realises that she can still tell Charity’s upset.

So, she takes the leap first.

“You know, it scared me,” she starts. Charity looks understandably confused. “How much it hurt me, when I saw him like that,” she expands without Charity needing to ask.

“What do you mean?” Charity asks. She reaches forward and pries the sippy cup from Moses’ hands, setting it down on the coffee table. She turns the volume on the TV down and leans back against the sofa, shuffling closer towards them.

“Just … my heart broke, watching him cry like that. He just looked so sad.” She pauses, taking a long look at Moses, looking so, so innocent while he sleeps. An unconscious smile makes its way onto her face at the sight, at how he could have been so upset such a little time ago and now just looks so peaceful. “I would’ve done anything to make him feel better.”

“It’s ‘cause you’re a good person,” Charity says. She doesn’t voice it but  _ and I’m not _ is implied.

“No,” Vanessa replies. “No. It’s ‘cause I love him, just like I love Johnny. It’s scary. I’m  _ scared. _ I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone else like that. And then you came along, you and Moses and Noah, and you just … absolutely wrecked all of that.”

Charity looks mildly uncomfortable with the affection, but like she’s trying not to be. It’s endearing all on its own, the way that Charity can’t quite handle praise and compliments and real, unadulterated  _ love. _ She leans over the top of Moses, making sure not to knock into him, and kisses Vanessa gently. It’s chaste, hindered by the sleeping toddler in the middle of them, but the message is clear:

_ I love Johnny too. I love  _ you, _ too. _

She pulls away, a stupidly cute smile on her face, and curls up on the sofa, resting her head against Vanessa’s shoulder, almost bumping Moses’. “My break’s over in five minutes,” she says, smiling when Vanessa kisses her forehead. “Make the most of me while you can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speak to me on tumblr! noahdingles.tumblr.com
> 
> also pls note i've changed the total number of chapters from 4 to 5 bc somebody suggested an epilogue where the kids are playing with the dog and YES


	3. Johnny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one ran away from me. Johnny is an angel and Charity has a massive soft spot for him this is canon thanks
> 
> ALSO. i know johnny talks far too well for a three year old but LET ME LIVE

Charity never wanted kids. Not when she was little, not when she was growing up, not even when she was thirteen and holding her tiny, beautiful baby in her arms for the minute before the nurses took her away forever.

She’ll admit it, she didn’t think much about Debbie after that. Sure, she always felt a pang of longing every year when her birthday passed, imagining what it could have been like if she’d kept her little girl instead of giving her away, but she knew in her heart that it was for the best. She knew that her baby probably had a family now, one that could love her and keep a roof over her head and food in her mouth, which Charity knew was something she couldn’t have given her.

By the time Debbie finally found her, Charity hadn’t really thought much about her baby in years. She’d had other things on her mind — trying to keep herself off the streets, for one, and trying to keep herself clean and healthy and fed.

She still hadn’t wanted her when they got back in touch, if she’s being honest. She never really felt that click with her, not until a lot further into their relationship. She’d told Debbie that she wasn’t her mum, had denied it so easily even _she_ was surprised, and she knows for a fact she would have went on with her life without Debbie without ever looking back if Zoe hadn’t told her the truth.

And it’s not that she doesn’t love Debbie now, because she _does_ — she loves her more than anything, would kill with her bare hands for her no matter what the consequences might be — it’s just that … well, she’s _never_ been a kid person.

In fact, when she finally did connect with Debbie, there was a wonderful relief that came with the fact that Charity had gotten to skip over the hardest part of raising a kid — the crying all night, the terrible twos, the constant need for love and affection and everything Charity didn’t have to give — and go straight to the part where Debbie had become a real little person that Charity could have a conversation with.

She thinks maybe she could have been happy having another baby back then, if things had been different. Maybe she could have been a good mum to Noah right from the start — or at least as close to it as she could have come.

But things _weren’t_ different, and Chris framed her and she tried to sell him, her beautiful baby boy, and now she’s trying her hardest to make up for everything she put him through, but she knows it’s not enough. He’s been coming round to her, trusting her more again, but she knows it’s mostly to do with Vanessa’s presence, and the fact that she’s been making Charity quite a lot calmer lately.

She definitely didn’t want any more kids after Noah, so much so that she let two of her marriages be wrecked by it, but when she fell pregnant with Moses, she sort of just thought … why not? There was always the chance it would bag her an early release, and she didn’t find out about it until she was already in there, so it wasn’t like she could really get rid of it.

Moses was the end, though. She was sure of that, more sure than she ever had been before. There was no way she could go through that again, no way she could _put_ someone through that again — especially not when he got sick. There were horrifying parallels between Moses and Noah: both of them being born in prison, both of them being sick, both of them being born without a dad to their names.

So, when Vanessa and Johnny came along, she wasn’t particularly up for becoming his new mummy. Sure, she was willing to get along with the kid, but if she’s being honest, she didn’t really see her and Vanessa going very far with their relationship before she cocked it up for good and Vanessa called it quits while she still could.

Eventually, though, it became glaringly apparent that that _wasn’t_ what was going to happen. Vanessa and Johnny had integrated themselves into her life, so slowly and casually she almost didn’t notice. It was like one day she woke up and she was with the woman she loved and she had this whole new son, and she didn’t really care about it as much as she thought she might.

She was quite surprised to find she quite likes the sprog, actually. He’s quiet and shy and gets on well with Moses, which is good because it gives the kid someone to play with that isn’t Noah or Charity herself, thank God. Not only that, but he has a weird little sense of humour about him that just reminds her so much of Vanessa, it’s unreal.

She does feel bad, if she’s honest, because sometimes it feels a lot like Vanessa’s taken to Moses a lot quicker than she’s taken to Johnny, but they do get on in their own way. He tends to follow her around a little, but it’s mostly just endearing, not annoying.

The most one-on-one time her and Johnny ever really spend together is on a Thursday afternoon, when she picks him up from his playgroup. Ross always has Moses on a Thursday, and Vanessa’s on the afternoon shift every Thursday, which leaves only her to collect him. It used to be left to Tracy or Frank or Rhona, or whoever they could talk into getting him, until a string of … eventful pick-ups from Charity that left Johnny absolutely _insisting_ that Charity picks him up every week from there on out.

This particular Thursday, however, is just not working in Charity’s favour. Like, _at all._

First off, neither Moses or Johnny will get up. She’s meant to have Moses fed and dressed and at Ross’ for ten, but by quarter to he’s still sitting in his pyjamas at the breakfast table, him and Johnny playing with their toy trucks. They’ve both left their cereal untouched, even though they’ve bought that ridiculously expensive one they always beg for _just_ so they’d finally eat their breakfast.

When she tries to get involved, the two of them gang up on her in the way that only little kids can, and she ends up leaving them to it. By the time Moses has finally eaten an acceptable amount of his breakfast, they’re already fifteen minutes late and he still refuses to get changed for another twenty.

When she _finally_ gets Moses round to Ross’, he makes her stand at the door and gives her a bollocking on the importance of timekeeping for at least five minutes while Moses plays with his toys in the living room.

After that, Chas makes her take the trip down to the suppliers, even though she _knows_ that it’s a good three hour trek all in all, what with the driving there and back and everything she’ll have to do when she does get there, and Charity has to be back by half one at the latest if she wants to be at playgroup in time to pick Johnny up.

And, you know what, Charity’s pissed — because she _would have_ been on time if it weren’t for the absolute wanker ahead of her, driving at a steady pace of about twenty miles an hour on the middle of the motorway for half of the drive back.

By the time she finally pulls up at the leisure centre where Johnny’s playgroup’s held, she’s fifteen minutes late and already knows she’s in for it with Vanessa as soon as she catches wind of what’s happened. She gets out of the car, slamming the door behind her on her way out and running as fast as she can in her heels to the door.

She finds Johnny sitting in the middle of the floor, playing with the train set with who she assumes is one of the playgroup leaders, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world. When the door shuts behind her, Johnny takes no notice, but the woman he’s playing with looks up and plasters on a clearly fake smile when she sees her.

“Look, Johnny,” she says, poking him in the ribs to get his attention. “Your mummy’s here to get you!” Under her breath, quiet enough she probably thinks Charity can’t hear her, she adds, “Finally.”

Charity’s mostly too taken aback by the ‘mummy’ comment to notice, but still sends a scowl her way. “Oh, I’m not actually his mu — oh, alright, hiya.” She’s cut off by Johnny running towards her at top speed and launching himself into her arms.

“Charity!” he yells excitedly, flinging his arms around her neck and wrapping his legs tightly around her waist. “You’re here!”

“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” she says, hitching him up higher on her waist. “Traffic was an absolute nightmare.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the woman says, fake smile still on her face. “Right, well, let me get his stuff for you. His jacket’s hanging up, over by the cubbies.”

Charity carries him over to the cubbyholes and places him down on the floor again. She rubs at the bottom of her back, sighing in relief when some of the tension dissipates. “I’m telling you, babe, one day soon, you are going to be too big for me to carry you around like that.”

Johnny laughs. “You’re weak.”

“Eh?”

“Not strong like me.” He makes a show of flexing his arms, smiling proudly at her.

“Christ, kid, that’s the last time I ask Ross to look after you when he’s got Moses.” She unhooks his jacket from the peg, pulling his arms through the sleeves gently. He squirms slightly, but doesn’t bat her away when she zips it up.

His teacher comes back into the room then, Johnny’s school bag in hand. “There you go,” she says, handing it over to Charity. She unzips it, quickly checking that all of his stuff is in the bag. Satisfied with what she finds, she zips it back up and slings it over her shoulder.

“Right, all sorted, yeah? Let’s get going.”

As she goes to turn away, the woman catches her by the elbow and turns her back around. “In the future,” she says, keeping her voice quiet so Johnny doesn’t hear. “Try and be here on time, yeah? Us staff _do_ actually have lives of our own.”

Charity doesn’t dignify her with a response, just turns up her nose at her and scowls. “Let’s go, babe,” she says, putting a hand on Johnny’s back and guiding him out, purposefully ignoring the woman. Snidey cow.

She guides Johnny to the car and buckles him into his carseat, smiling to herself at the constant stream of chatter that comes from his mouth. She replies every once in a while, answering his questions and making little comments here and there about whatever it is he’s saying. She’ll never get tired of the look on his face, of the absolute joy and excitement, that he gets whenever he realises he’s not just talking into air.

“Charity?” he asks when they’ve been on the road for about five minutes. He cuts himself off mid-sentence, obviously deciding he’s bored of telling her all about every single kind of truck they have at playgroup (thankfully).

“Yeah, babe?”

“Who’s my daddy?”

Charity almost crashes the car straight into a tree.

After taking a minute to compose herself and to get her driving back under control, she clears her throat. “What was that, darling?” she asks, voice a little shaky.

She’s not sure how on Earth she’s meant to answer that question; how much she’s meant to say — how much of it she even really _knows_ — or if she’s even meant to say anything at all. She reckons it’s probably a question Vanessa should be answering, or at least the two of them together. Certainly not Charity, all on her todd.

“Who’s my daddy?” Johnny repeats, clear as day. “Moses has a daddy, and Mummy. Who’s mine?” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs loudly — sounding scarily like Noah, she notes, horrified — and repeats, “ _Charity._ ”

“That, um, that’s something you’re gonna wanna ask Mummy about, babe,” she replies, sure that Johnny will be able to pick up on how wobbly her voice is.

“Do you know him?” Johnny asks.

Charity sighs. She can’t quite believe this is happening to her — how is _she,_ Charity bloody Dingle, being backed into a corner by an innocent little three year old?

“Sort of,” she eventually replies.

“Where is he?”

She’s _really_ not sure how to answer that one — she doesn’t even know the answer herself. “He had to move away,” she tells Johnny, semi-truthfully. “Far away.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated, babe.”

She knows trying to pass it off as nothing probably won’t work, but she crosses her fingers and prays to God that Johnny’s little three year old mind will find something else to think about. Unfortunately, of course, her forty-odd years of ignoring Him come back to bite her in the arse, and Johnny refuses to let up.

“He’s coming home?”

He sounds — not hopeful, but … like he just assumes that he will. Like, he has enough faith in this man he doesn’t know, that he just trusts automatically because of some sort of family loyalty he has, that he just automatically thinks he’ll come back for him.

It both warms Charity’s heart and makes her blood run cold all at once.

“No, darling. No, I don’t think he will be.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything for a while, and Charity sort of just think that’s the end of it. She’s grateful, eternally grateful, because she knows if he’d kept asking she would have just kept digging herself further and further into a hole that she wouldn’t have been able to get out of, and Vanessa would have been fuming, and honestly, who has time for all that aggro?

“It’s okay,” he says eventually, though, carrying on from a conversation that Charity wasn’t aware they were still having.

“What is?”

“That he moved away.” She sees Johnny smile from the rearview mirror, so big and happy she can’t help the one that spreads across her own face at the sight of it. “I don’t need a daddy; I’ve got you.”

And it’s just —

Johnny is so little, and he loves so, so openly, and easily. He loves the way Vanessa’s always taught him to love, fully and beautifully. She thinks about her own kids, and how when Debbie was Johnny’s age, she didn’t even know who Charity was. Moses didn’t even see her for the first nine months of his life and even after that, she was hardly a hands-on mother. The only one she was really there for at that age was Noah, but the memories still leave a bitter taste in her mouth because Noah hadn’t remembered he had a sister and she’d never once reminded him.

Even at three years old, Johnny has the sort of faith in the world that Charity’s not sure any of her kids have ever had.

Johnny loves her because he trusts her. She cooks for him and bathes him and tucks him in at night, and that’s enough to make Johnny trust and believe that she’s a good person. They never really had that awkwardness, the hesitance, that Vanessa had with Debs and Noah and Moses.

It’s an obvious result of Vanessa’s parenting, and the contrast with Johnny against her own kids an ugly reflection of her own. Vanessa had never given Johnny any reason not to trust Charity, never gave him any reason not to love her.

“Yeah?” she asks, voice cracking a little. She wipes at her eye with the sleeve of her shirt, blinking rapidly to try and rid her eyes of any tears. “You mean that?”

“Duh,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my favouritest.” He pauses for a second, like he’s thinking something through. “‘Part from Mummy. She’s my favouritest, too.”

Charity laughs. “Obviously.” She turns, pulling up outside of Tug Ghyll, and puts the car into park. “Don’t tell her or she’ll get a big head, but Mummy’s my favourite too.”

He scrunches his face up. “What ‘bout me an’ Noah an’ Moses an’ Debbie?”

“Well, I can have more than one favourite, can’t I?”

He grins. “‘Course.”

She gets out of the car, opening the back door to get Johnny out of his carseat. She unbuckles him and lifts him out, resting him on her hip while she leans over the carseat to get his bag from the seat next to him.

She crouches to put him on the ground, and can’t help but smile at his little face. “Can I have a cuddle?” she asks. His face lights up, and he steps forward and wraps his arms around her neck. She pulls him tight against her, burying her face in his hair. She kisses the side of his head and can’t help but revel in how _nice_ it feels, to have this little boy who just loves her and wants to be around her, no matter what else she’s done.

“Love you, Charity,” he says, playing with the hair spilling over her back.

She’s about to reply when another voice cuts in. “This is very cosy,” comes Vanessa’s voice from beside them. “What’s the occasion?”

“Mummy!” Johnny exclaims, unhooking himself from Charity’s grip and raising his arms expectantly at Vanessa. She sighs but lifts him up into her arms, kissing his cheek quickly when he wraps himself around her, a bit like a tree.

“Hiya, sweetheart. Did you have a good time at playgroup?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Yep! We played with the train set, an’ then Charity was late, so I got to play longer.”

Vanessa squints at Charity, obviously disappointed. “She was, was she?” she asks Johnny, but it’s obvious who the question’s directed at.

“Not by long!” Vanessa’s still clearly unimpressed. “Honest, babe. I tried to get there on time, I was just stuck behind this absolute …” she looks down at Johnny, happy as Larry in his mother’s arms, and bites her tongue, “... _plonker_ , on the motorway. Would’ve thought it was Sunday if I didn’t know any better.”

The beginnings of a smile twitch on the edge of her lips. “What do you say, eh?” she asks, Johnny, jiggling him in her arms just slightly. “Should we let her off, just this once?”

“Yes,” he says, poking at Vanessa’s face.

“Oh, you’re all heart,” Charity says, tickling Johnny’s side. “Anyway, I thought you were meant to be working all afternoon? Me and Johnny were getting ready for an afternoon in front of the telly.”

“Yeah, well, business was slow and Paddy’s on call, so I left early. That a problem?”

“Obviously,” she replies, smirk back on her face. “Thought I was finally rid of you.”

“Oi! Cheeky cow!” Vanessa exclaims, swatting at Charity’s arm, but she’s smiling all the same. “Erm, Johnny, babe, why don’t you go in and put a film on, eh? The door’s open.”

She puts Johnny down and waits until he’s out of earshot to lean in to Charity and ask, “Are you alright? You seem … I dunno, off.”

“Me? I’m fine, babe. Better than ever.” It’s not difficult to tell that Vanessa’s unconvinced. They stare it out for about five seconds before Charity sighs and gives in. “I am fine, really! It’s just … Johnny was asking about his dad.”

Vanessa’s eyes narrow. “And what exactly did you tell him?”

“Nothing!” Vanessa looks skeptical, to say the least. “Honest. I just said that … that his dad had to move far away and I didn’t think he’d be back any time soon.”

Vanessa’s face softens. She reaches out and wraps her arms around Charity’s waist, drawing her closer. “Thanks. I’ll have a chat with him later about it — I knew sooner or later he’d start asking questions.” She bites down on her lip, studying Charity’s face closely. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what’s got you bothered.”

Charity looks around, desperately trying to find an out. As much as her relationship with Vanessa has matured her, confronting her feelings still makes her uncomfortable, but she knows it’s a part of herself that she has to embrace if she wants to keep a healthy relationship.

“Johnny … he, erm, he said that he didn’t need a dad. ‘Cause he has me.”

Vanessa’s eyes widen. There’s something about the look on her face, about how bright and happy and just … _content_ , she looks, that makes Charity feel like she’s on top of a rollercoaster, looking down at the fall she’s about to take and knowing it’s too late to go back. It’s not a bad feeling, necessarily — she really does loves Vanessa, even if she doesn’t say it enough — but it’s just that the thought of Vanessa feeling the same way, the thought of Vanessa really, genuinely wanting her, warts and all, makes her feel a bit sick.

“That’s wonderful,” she says, a beautiful, genuine smile spreading across her face. But then, as if sensing Charity’s hesitance, it fades a little. “That is wonderful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Of course it is. I just — I just don’t want to let him down.”

Vanessa laughs, quiet and wonderful, and cups Charity’s face in her hands. “Hey, you won’t let him down, alright? You’re great with him.”

“Yeah?” Charity asks nervously. She bites down on her lip, trying to look anywhere but Vanessa’s eyes.

“ _Yes_ ,” Vanessa insists. “Come here, you silly beggar.”

She pulls Charity into a kiss, soft and gentle and everything that Charity isn’t, and Charity lets herself melt into it, because above all else, she’s selfish. She knows she doesn’t deserve Vanessa, but sometimes in the moments like these, it’s easy to pretend she’s someone who does.

They’re forced to break apart by the shrill shriek Charity’s automatically able to identify as Johnny’s. “Mummy, Charity, hurry _up!_ ” he yells at the top of his voice. She turns and sees him standing in the doorway of Tug Ghyll, hand on his hip and looking every bit like his mother, with a stern look on his face. “The film’s about to start!”

Vanessa rolls her eyes fondly, and tugs Charity away towards the house by the hand. “Duty calls,” she says, raising an eyebrow. Charity follows with a smile on her face and thanks whoever’s up there, not for the first time, for giving her her millionth chance with Vanessa and Johnny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speak to me on tumblr! srsly pls i'm so bored noahdingles.tumblr.com


End file.
